THE SOUFRIERE-BIRD. I99 
joy. Hence, he not only refused to accompany me 
on my excursions, but exercised his little wit to throw 
obstacles in my way. 
The local name of the “Soufriére-bird,” from the 
French word soufriére, a sulphur mountain, an in- 
habitant of the volcano, has been obtained from the 
Caribs and the negroes, as the bird is rarely heard 
outside a gunshot limit from the crater. Its habitat 
is strictly mountainous, and I do not think it is ever 
found at a lesser height than one thousand feet above 
the sea, and in the dark ravines and gorges seaming 
the sides of the-cone it finds a congenial retreat. It re- 
sembles a closely-allied bird of Dominica, the “ Moun- 
tain whistler,” in many particulars, especially in its 
habits of seclusion, shyness, and melody of song. It 
is, however, much shyer than even the Dominica 
bird; and while the latter seems to prefer the solitude 
of dark gorges more from a love of retirement than 
fear of man, the soufriére-bird is timid, even suspi- 
ciously watchful of man’s presence, and flies from 
his approach. In its wild, sweet, melancholy music 
it strikingly resembles the “mountain whistler,” but 
the notes are different. 
From the dense thicket of trees bordering the trail 
around the crater this bird sends forth its mystic mu- 
sic, and darts away at the slightest indication of human 
proximity to its haunts. As the earth supporting the 
trees it inhabits is cut into every conceivable shape. 
of hole, rut, and ravine, and as, moreover, the place 
swarms with monster snakes, the terror of the negroes, 
almost the only people crossing the mountain, it has 
been connected with the superstitions of the negro, 
and has ever remained the “invisible, mysterious bird 
